


Rescue Me

by dbhprincess



Series: No Longer Alone [14]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:26:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28174635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dbhprincess/pseuds/dbhprincess
Summary: In which Connor doesn’t want an empty home, and Hank offers to fill it for him.A HankCon AU inspired by the 2015 filmThe Martian. Takes place after the events ofNo Longer Alone.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Series: No Longer Alone [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2006686
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	Rescue Me

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was first written as part of a [thread series](https://twitter.com/i/events/1294694026780631042) on Twitter.

“Hank?”

Hank startled at the abrupt disturbance of their companionable silence. He lifted his eyes from the notes he’d been typing and squinted across the room at Connor. “Hmm?”

Connor placed the ruler in his hand on the table where he was sitting. After his rescue, Hank had ordered a mandatory week of recuperation before Connor insisted he return to his originally scheduled science duties. He’d had enough of sitting around with little to do. Today’s task was to document the progress of his ferns, as part of their plant growth experiments. “Did you ever have a dog?”

Hank took the reading glasses off his nose and set them beside his computer keyboard. “Once, when I was a kid. Why?”

Connor shrugged and placed the cover back over the fern he’d been measuring. “I was just wondering. I’ve never had a dog. My brother and I begged, but my dad was allergic, so we couldn’t have one when I was a kid. Then there was college, then work and helping Mom when Dad died. There were just too many other commitments. It wouldn’t have been fair to the dog.”

Hank nodded and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yeah, I get that. I’ve never had the time, either. Cole wanted a puppy for his birthday, but I wanted to wait until he was old enough to take responsibility. And then…well…” He rubbed the back of his neck, voice fading out.

Connor smiled at him, warm, soft, and loving. “You are such a good dad, Hank.” He stood and carried the fern container back to the specimen closet.

Hank crossed his arms once more and sighed. “I was.”

Holding another test fern, Connor walked past Hank’s chair to drop a gentle kiss on his forehead. “You always will be.”

Hank turned his eyes back to the computer screen, blinking away the sudden blurriness. “Yeah.”

Connor sat down again and quietly recorded his next findings. Five minutes passed before he spoke again. “When we get home, I’m going to get a dog. If there’s one thing I learned on Mars, it’s that life’s too short to wait for the so-called right time for what you want. And I don’t want to go home to an empty apartment anymore.”

Hank thought of his empty house, with its empty backyard, the empty left side of his closet, and the empty right side of his bed.

As Hank stared unseeing at the screen before him, Connor continued. “I’d like a big dog, I think. One to play tug-of-war with and hug at the end of a hard day. And I want a rescue dog.”

“My dog was a Saint Bernard,” Hank said, a smile tugging at his mouth. “Sasha outweighed me by 100 pounds, but she was so gentle. I used to sleep on the floor so I could lie next to her at night. Drove my mom crazy. If Cole had lived…” Hank sighed again and looked at Connor, who watched him closely, knowingly.

Then Connor dropped his eyes to the fern in front of him. “Maybe I’ll get a Saint Bernard, then. I did always have a thing for gentle giants who rescue people.” He pointedly paused to make a note on the chart beside him before looking back up, right into Hank’s eyes. “I’d like the chance to rescue one back.”

Pinned in place by that deep brown stare, Hank swallowed. “They shed everywhere and drool like a faucet.”

“But they bring you booze,” Connor argued.

“They bring brandy. I'm a whiskey man,” Hank countered. Connor snorted with a smile and looked again at the chart, releasing Hank from his penetrating gaze. Hank missed it immediately.

“They also need a lot of space, Connor. They’re really big dogs. I don’t know how big your apartment is, but–” Hank stopped, all thoughts suspended in a burst of realization. If there was one thing _he’d_ learned while Connor was on Mars… “Sure, baby, we can get a dog.”

A momentary eternity passed before Connor’s head snapped up, eyes wide. “We, Hank?” he asked, in a voice laced with confusion.

But Hank grasped at the thread of hope he was sure he heard woven between those two quiet words. His stomach rolled over; his mouth was suddenly dry. He hadn’t thought any of this through, and it took a heartbeat or two to find his next words.

“Well, I’ve got a house. It’s not too big, but it has a large yard with shade trees and plenty of squirrels to chase, and a private dock over the river. Sasha always loved the water.” Hank pressed his lips together, aware that he was both rambling and failing to answer Connor’s question. He rubbed the back of his neck again. “I, uh…I thought… Whenever we’ve talked about going home, I guess I’ve pictured us at my home. Together.”

“What are you saying, Hank?” Connor still hadn’t moved, hadn’t changed expression, but that thread of hope in his soft voice had thickened into a cord strong enough for Hank to hold on to.

Hank carefully placed his hands on his thighs and took the leap. “I’m saying I don’t want you to go home to an empty apartment anymore, either. And I don’t want to go home to my empty house. I want us to come home together, wherever that is. And if you want a dog to be waiting for us there every day, then I want to make that happen.” He took a breath and flexed his fingers. “Dammit, Connor, I want to marry you.”

Connor blinked. “Are you asking me, then?” he said, and Hank held his breath at what lit in Connor’s eyes.

Rubbing his palms against his pants, Hank felt a smile blooming on his face. “Yeah,” he nodded. “I guess I am.”

In an immediate whirlwind of motion, Connor jumped up from his chair, his hand knocking over the fern container as he rounded the table. Soil scattered across the tabletop, but neither man took notice. In three strides and less than three seconds, Connor was across the room and across Hank’s lap, arms slung around his neck.

“You want to marry me?” he murmured against Hank’s mouth.

“I do,” Hank murmured back.

Connor leaned away, but not far, fingers carding through the hair on Hank’s neck. “But that’s crazy, right? We’ve only been together for six months.”

Hank settled his arms around Connor’s waist. “Connor, I’ve loved you for years now, whether we were together or not. You said it yourself. Life’s too short.”

“We’ll have to keep it quiet until after the mission is complete and NASA’s not breathing down our necks anymore. I won’t have your service record tarnished by questions about your conduct,” Connor said firmly. The furrow that appeared between his eyebrows was adorable.

Hank squeezed Connor’s hip with one hand and smoothed that furrow with the thumb of the other. “You’re gonna protect me, huh? Rescue me like one of your ‘gentle giants’?”

Connor’s fingers tightened in Hank’s hair as he leaned in again. “Baby, I’m going to rescue you like you rescue me every day. From loneliness, and memories, and all the things that I need you for.”

Then he surged forward those final inches into a kiss that was deep and dark, soft and light, everything they felt and everything they had to say.

When it was time for words again, Hank pulled back. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, just a little breathless.

And Connor replied with a grin, “You’d better,” before kissing him again.

\-----

That night, as they lay wrapped around each other on their bed, Connor spoke into the darkness. “If we get a girl, I want to name her Brandy. If we get a boy…”

Connor paused, and Hank looked down at where his head lay on his chest. Connor titled his face up to ask, “Any ideas?”

Hank pursed his mouth and thought for a minute, picturing a large, shaggy Saint Bernard lumbering around his – their – backyard and snoring at their feet as they sat against each other on the couch watching old movies. A gentle giant of their own. He smiled.

Voice rumbling low, Hank answered, “We’ll call him Sumo.”


End file.
